Music to Rouse the Savage Beast
by The Dirtwater Fox
Summary: Patient 00415C7 has had a rather hard life inside an inhumanly small room tucked away in the bowels of a hellish place. But! Thins are starting to look up.


**(AN: ** Alright. This is - yet another - story I'm working on. Damn but I have so many that I just haven't gotten around to doing enough work on to post yet. But, I hit a small snag as far as inspiration goes on **Kage of the Graves, **so I decided to throw this one when I found myself in the middle of another insomniac night. So, with the help of some Avenged Sevenfold, a bit of classy Iron Maiden, a heavy dosage of A Perfect Circle and a few choice techno selections... I bring you Patient # 00415-C7. A troubled boy inside of a mental institution, (Inspired in large part by Threshold from Delauney - you should check it out, good stuff.) who's rescued by.. well, I suppose that would be telling, now wouldn't it? Realize that this is an AU, and it incorporates drug usage, nudity, adult language, and will most definitely have many lemons down the road. By the way, the two lines below are my own, I wrote them long ago in a song for a band that I was in that lasted halfway to our first gig - go figure. It wasn't even a paying one. -grumble- )

They try to tell us they're here to help, but we all know they're lying.  
Cause every night, all we can hear are the screams of people dying.

**Music to rouse the savage beast:  
Patient # 00415-C7**

Hidden, deep within the walls of a large, non-descript building done in muted grays and blinding hues belonging to colors that defy the imagination and torture the eyes. Inside a small eight by eight room with hard compacted padded walls lays a boy who's life has had many disappointments. All around him were simple phrases of a morbid nature - all were written in blood. This boy has been within these walls for time out of memory, and he has watched faces change and heard many voices come and go. He does not know why he is here - oh sure, the voices tell him all the many different reasons he is here, yes.

"You assaulted a citizen that sought only to help you," one voice had told him. He had been young then, although he was only aware of this by the simple fact that he was much taller now.

"You are a danger to others. You rage when you are not sedated. You hurl accusations against the very people who seek to help you." That had been another voice. The voices always belonged to white wearing people who bore fake smiles and never approached any closer than the desk they sat behind.

The voices continued at a constant rate over what this boy could only imagine to be years. They called him things sometimes as well, demon and the like. But, you see, the boy knew the truth. He knew he was no demon. The true demon was inside of him, and those times when it chose to make it's presence known were something of a joy, something of a nightmare. It talked to him when it wished, but never when this boy called to it. Never when he lay within the confines of his room crying himself to sleep those long stretches of empty time so long ago. No, you see, the boy did not first meet the demon until long after his last tear had fallen. Patient # 00415-C7 could remember very well that first time he had fallen asleep only to find himself very much awake. He could recall vividly - the stench of a rot, the steady dripping of collected moisture as it slipped through cracks in the ceiling - the screams behind those locked doors.

"_Wh-where am I?" He was vaguely aware of an echo following his words. The youth stood slowly, brushing the film off of his clothes - and finding himself mildly surprised to be nude. His nudity wasn't really a surprise. Patient # 00415-C7 was often naked for days at a time, he preferred it to the stench of - what the white wearing people called - clothes. What did surprise him, however, was the fact that he had - regrettably - been forced to wear clothes again ever so recently. He had had another 'session' with the seventh voice in memory earlier, and the voices preferred him in clothes. He was drawn from his silent reverie by another voice - but much more powerful than his own, much more interesting than any other voice Patient # 00415-C7 could recall. It simply spoke the word "**Come,**" and he obeyed._

_All around him, Patient # 00415-C7 could see the slight differences between this place and the one that had always been. The walls in the place he had always been were a blaring white with another brighter color along the top. There were lights everywhere, and Patient # 00415-C7 always walked with his eyes almost closed throughout them. Here, the walls were supposed to be that color, or it seemed that way at least. Instead, these walls were dark and discolored - seemingly by smoke. Smoke was something Patient # 00415-C7 knew about and liked, so he was vaguely encouraged and actually began to have a lighter step as he walked down the hallway, admiring the improvement in the scenery. He was, in fact, in something nearing a jovial mood as he also noticed the condition of those hateful lights - broken and destroyed, only a few were working properly, and most simply flickered to illuminate small patches of space at a time - and he would have gradually begun to smile were it not for the first door he had come across. _

_It was a door he had passed many times, but, unlike the usual in the place that had always been, this one quickly became a source of fear. Behind the darkened glass rectangle there was no movement, but an inhuman scream began to build into something truly frightening. To Patient # 00415-C7, it sounded almost as if someone was being killed - particularly, a small child or animal. He knew these sounds well, his own voice had made those noises often enough within the past few years. He hurried his pace to avoid them, hastening to reach that powerful voice that had beckoned him. However, with every step he took, another door appeared. With every door he passed, another scream began until it was all he could hear. His fear had been momentary, as it always was. The screams had been unexpected, and new or unexpected things in Patient # 00415-C7's life were bad in every case except one. But that one good thing amongst all the bad was not a concern to him now. The screams hurt his head with their intensity, and so he ran until he could no longer breath, until his pulse pounded so heavily in his ears that it drowned out the screams - until… until he reached a wide open room that was wholly unlike the solarium that Patient # 00415-C7 knew to be here. It was there that his body at last collapsed and allowed him a momentary reprieve. The screams were no longer present, but there was something else far more important to consider now._

_There, some twenty or so footsteps in front of him stood a massive set of bars which were the terminating point of the shattered windows and dirty linoleum floors. Some twenty feet from where he now pushed himself to a seated position, lay the end of all that he could remember - and the beginning of something entirely new. There was something behind those bars. Something that suggested a great and powerful evil - but Patient # 00415-C7 could not fear it. His body trembled and his mouth dried up at the harsh breathing sounds pervading the silence of the room far more than his own - but these were his bodies instinctual reactions. For himself, he was as calm and unflinching as the comatose state he often found himself in. He stared for several minutes until the exertion drain faded and his body no longer ached from his run. When he was able to again, Patient # 00415-C7 slowly stood and approached the bars - noting with some amusement that the huge bars had only a set of double doors locked with a chain wrapped in paper as an exit. Somehow, it fit in with the setting of all he had known, this place had so many of these doors, similarly chained and locked - although the paper was new. There was a motion within the darkness behind those bars - a swirling of shadow amidst shadows that didn't cause him any real alarm. If it were to attack him, Patient # 00415-C7 was sure that he would respond in kind and - win or loss - be as new within an hour, or a few days at most. Such things occurred to him at times, and no matter the injury he sustained - great or small - he was always untouched in time. So it was no alarming thing when the shadows moved again - much faster now - and four great claws crashed through the bars, impacting in the ground around him - clearing by only a few inches on either side._

"_**You do not fear me, child?" **So this was where the voice came from, he realized. Up close, it was a much more powerful thing - causing his head to throb with pain - but still, he felt no fear. Such things were beyond him he believed - although he had no problem admitting surprise. "I am surprised." Patient # 00415-C7 said, and he got the impression that the body those claws belonged to was nodding. **"Very good. This pleases me." **Patient # 00415-C7 simply nodded, unaffected. He was curious though, who was this? Surely another of the sleep picture people who spoke to him occasionally. However, the sleep picture people were always just that - people. This was something new, but not wholly unwelcome. It was like his birthday present in a way - something new that was good. "Who are you?" There was a great laughter following his response, and the claws finally retracted. The shadows shifted again, only this time, something came forward. It was a woman - Patient # 00415-C7 was still young enough that he could recall what a woman looked like back then - but it was not a human woman. The person that approached the bars had blood red eyes that burned brightly, long lustrous hair of a similar color, and the body of a monster. Patient # 00415-C7 knew what monsters were. His picture book was full of monsters. It was tall - much taller than himself - and terrifyingly built. Nine tails flowed out behind it, each ending with a flickering flame that burned too brightly to look at. Although he did not know it at the time, the boy was looking at the reason for his institutionalization. He was seeing something that no one had seen in over four hundred years - the face of the first container the Kyuubi no Kitsune had ever been entrapped within, and the beast herself._

_Despite the monstrous appearance, Patient # 00415-C7 had to smile. A woman - this was very welcome. All of the people around him were men, and they were cruel. Surely, a woman would be different. He approached the bars until he was nearly at one of the massive egresses between them, and the woman smiled in return - just before thrusting a hand through the bars and piercing his chest with five wickedly sharp claws. _

Patient # 00415-C7 could recall vividly the sharp crack of bone as his ribs had given way under the brute strength the woman had possessed and the fire that had burned his body so terribly as he felt those powerful digits encircle his heart. When she'd let him go, he had fallen back gasping and found himself on the floor of his room - awake and coughing up blood. From that moment on, things had gotten slightly less boring.

------------------------

Shortly before he'd stopped trying to keep track of the time, Patient # 00415-C7 had learned the concept of holidays. One of the other patients - who he simply called 'the pretty one' - had walked around wearing a new necklace for a day - before it was claimed by the one of the grunting men shortly thereafter - and when Patient # 00415-C7 had asked what it was for, the pretty one had told him that it was a Christmas gift. He'd been confused and asked what that was. The pretty one had explained all about Christmas and other holidays. But, he'd never experienced anything remotely similar - he had nothing that he looked forward to. That was, until the _other _woman came to him - the one who had stolen his heart. And so, he'd come to think of these times as holidays. They could not be marked on a calendar, nor did that matter after much longer for time had become meaningless to him - he'd long since passed the highest numbers he could count.

She had spoken to him several times over the years. He never once revisited that wonderful version of his white walled existence - but she came to him all the same. He could beg for her to speak for hours, days, even weeks - but she never came to him unless she had reason. However, her reasons were never unwelcome - despite the pain they brought. For, every time she came to him, she brought with him what she called gifts. Her gifts hurt terribly, often leaving him screaming for hours as he suffered through what felt very much like fire coursing through his limbs, his body, and even his head - but when the horrible pain passed, Patient # 00415-C7 always felt more alive. The first time she had come to him, not more than a week after they had met - he was still counting back then - she had given him a powerful gift that she called Chakra. He remembered that exquisite feeling so very well. His body had contorted and bent while he lay on the floor, howling to uncaring ceiling long after the lights had gone out for sleep. The restraints on his bed had sundered beneath the spasms that wracked his body and he had fallen to the floor a twisting mess as his chakra pathways were flooded with a dark energy - his tenketsu stretched open and seemingly cauterized under the force that poured through them. When the fire had passed, Patient # 00415-C7 had gotten to see her again. She knelt in the edges of his consciousness and placed a soft kiss upon his fevered brow and told him he'd done well. Then she'd given him a second mark - close to the invisible scar upon his chest from where she'd torn his heart out . Brutally clawing at the flesh of his right pectoral and smiling brighter as she failed to elicit even a whimper.

The next few times had left him almost delirious with pain. She had given strength - using more of that unimaginable power of Chakra she possessed to coat his muscles and worked on them. Since that gift had arrived, he had found sleep hard to attain for a time because it began the moment he lost consciousness. However, once he'd mastered falling asleep, he slept longer as his body exhausted itself with exercise constantly. She had given him awareness - it had nearly killed him, but she had attacked the bonds that tied his consciousness to his body, lashing out against his soul. Then she had told him how to utilize this newest gift - all he had to was close his eyes and let his mind drift. Whenever Patient # 00415-C7 he was able to leave his body behind for a short time. He could not travel far or remain gone long, but he was allowed to see stars that he had completely forgotten before she inexorably drew him back into himself. Her final gift though, had been what she called selective sight. It hurt his eyes and caused his adrenaline to pump until it almost caused him a heart attack, but he could see everything! When he was taken for his monthly visit to the solarium, he had tried it out. With his selective sight he was disappointed at first, for nothing was happening other than a vague reddish haze enveloping all that he saw. But then! Oh my, a bird took flight and he could suddenly see it as if it were only an arms length from him! He could see the bird so well that he watched in fascination as it's individual feathers shifted to make tiny changes in flight. Oh it was wonderful thing, and - for the first time since 5 voices before the current - he smiled.

Each time she had come to him, she had left after marking him. But this time, this time had been special. As he lay twitching on the floor of his cell, his mind burned! His mind only, and it hurt worse than all the times before. Hurt worse than the shocking tortures that left him unsettled for days. There was blood dripping from the corners of his eyes and every vessel in those electric blue orbs was shot through with crimson veins. Veins! He knew the word now. He knew so many things. Patient # 00415-C7 had become aware of countless unimaginable things. It had been hours since his beautiful demonic inhabitant - such words he could use now! -had left him alone and it still hadn't stopped. For a time, he had sought solace in writing - real words! - along the walls in his blood. Cryptic phrases and rhymes that had popped up through the ever increasing bubbles of knowledge that she had granted him Some were from _her_ while some were from the only previous container _she _had had. He could see a world from both the demonic and human eyes that he could scarcely believe possible. It was through these memories that the stirrings of alien feelings had begun to come alive inside of him. He could feel lust, although it was confused by the fact that his visions of sex came from the wrong gender as they invaded his eleven year old mind. But far more importantly and fascinatingly, through these memories that were not his own, he had come upon visions that clarified the helpless… - something! - he had been feeling. It was rage. He savored those memories - filled with such haggard violence that it nearly consumed him - watching them over and over like a glutton. It had become clear to him what the demon wanted of him. It was as clear as the ragged drawing that spanned his entire ceiling in clotting blood. Above him, some ten feet or so - his memory was unclear as to how exactly he'd been able to do so - stretched a roughly drawn symbol of the leaf. He could not recall it from his own memories, for he'd been too young to keep such things in his head. But through the eyes of his demonic mother, he watched in horror as that same symbol spelt her doom.

For her, and for himself, the leaf would fall at his hands. As he thought this, he heard the laughter of the woman he had begun calling mother - and in the dark of the room he smiled.

-----------------------

Two years had passed since that night where he'd been brought out of the darkness of ignorance and into the light of purposeful intelligence. Two long years, and they had wrought many changes upon him. He was twelve now, and shortly to be thirteen, he knew. His birthday meant another midnight visitor from the orderly - a position he had once called grunting men - who gave him the one treat he looked forward to on the outside. Something that had been given to him every year, just as the last second struck in one cold evening to signal the morning of the next. Patient # 00415-C7 was naked again - his usual mode of comfort. The Kyuubi - he had been allowed to hear her name as a second present on his last birthday, and had been unable to pronounce it so she had lowered herself to the title given by humans - had begun approaching him more frequently now. Her gifts no longer brought pain, but intense concentration. She was teaching him techniques, as she called them. But Patient # 00415-C7 knew what they were for the first time fire had sprouted from his lips. These were not techniques - although he knew that that was indeed the proper term for them - they were weapons!

Patient # 00415-C7 practiced these techniques for some time until he was aware of a light anticipation building within him. Aware that some time had passed, he moved to the door now to get a glance down the hall, his eyes flickering as chakra burned through them, easily cutting through the darkness of the 'night time' lighting to catch the movements of the clock hands down the hall. 'Soon.' He knew the visiting hour was almost upon him, and so he moved to get dressed, slipping on one of the itchy garments that the horrible staff members had the nerve to call pants. From there, he simply waited, settling down cross legged onto his bunk to meditate. Once he'd found that peaceful center, where his senses seemed to ignore the workings of his body entirely, he allowed himself to leave. He didn't do this very often anymore, glimpses of the outside world only depressed him - although he did train himself in the skill once a month, when he would catch some late night movie in the doctors lounge two floors up. He searched for that wonderful man who brought him an hour or more of euphoria once a year - and was shocked when he'd found him. The man wasn't alone this time as he approached Naruto's level. There was a woman with him - one who was arguing with him, threatening him even, over the necessity of coming here. He listened in until they approached, long enough to get a clearer image of her so that he wouldn't get to choked up in the shock of seeing a woman again - other than the Kyuubi who was, admittedly, a special case and exempt from such consideration - and when the light turned on in his cell, he was already back in his body and stirring.

"Hello, Mizuki. Who's the woman?" He purposely said the words before he could have possibly seen the girl. A girl she was, too. He wouldn't guess her to be more than a few years older than himself. But Kyuubi had taught him the importance of flattery, and he used it lavishly to gain an edge in any situation presented to him. "See, Tay? I told you he was something. Do you think Pliskin'll let-" But Mizuki was cut off by an angry grunt and shoved into the room. "Just cause the brat knew I was there when you opened the door doesn't mean he's worthy of the risk to get him to Pliskin**(1) **Patient # 00415-C7 Only grinned. He liked this girl already. Everyone tried to be polite to him around here. He had never lashed out at anyone, but something about him had begun to scare away many of the few patients Patient # 00415-C7 bothered to talk to, and even his sessions with the doctors - whom he had previously called voices - had come less and less frequently… not that he minded. It was, therefore, refreshing to hear someone being so disagreeable. "Ah, Tay… don't be like that! Look, this kid is gold, I swear it!" Patient # 00415-C7 didn't have a clear enough idea as to what was going on at the moment, so he simply watched Mizuki rolling those fragrant dried herb sprinkles into a thick paper wrapping that smelt vaguely of spiced apples. This was what he had been craving for months now. Every year, he and Kyuubi both enjoyed the wonders of THC, although they had nearly never discovered such a joy. The first time Mizuki had given him a birthday present, Kyuubi had been angry at him for imbibing a toxin so trustingly, but then the effects had reached her through him and she had exulted, recognizing the cannabis for what it was - something she herself had enjoyed immensely in her time outside of battle long before the village of the Leaf had even been imagined.

Finally though, shortly before Mizuki was to put the final touches on the 'blunt' - as the gray haired orderly called it - the girl said something that he simply couldn't ignore. "No, dammit! You have no idea how pissed off I am that I came here - again! - under this stupid pretense of being your cousin, for nothing! This little shit's been locked up in a fucking cage all his life. I don't give a damn what you have to say, he's just another scrawny little asshole with a vacant expression on his face! He probably couldn't even kill a fucking pussy cat, so what the hell makes you think Pliskin could possibly want with him?" Patient # 00415-C7 decided to speak up then. He stood suddenly, causing the two of them to look at him, and in the blink of an eye he had he pressed to the wall by her throat, holding her body several inches above the floor with an expression of serenity on his face and no visible sign of strain in the arm that supported her. "I assure you, Tay, or whatever your name is, I can very well kill a pussy cat." There was utter silence following his sudden assault and statement, Mizuki was staring wide eyed at the boy he'd been smoking with once a year and watching every day besides while Tayuya was gripping his wrist and trying to loosen his hold while her feet were pressed against his body and pushing with all their strength - Patient # 00415-C7 refused to budge. After the complexion on Tayuya's face had started to take on a less than healthy color, he backed up from the wall and lowered her to the ground before letting go of her throat and returning to the bed. Tayuya, for her part, crumpled to her knees and began coughing as she rubbed her throat. Patient # 00415-C7 turned to Mizuki after a moment and cocked his head, staring directly at the blunt with an eyebrow cocked in query. Mizuki got the point after a few seconds and flicked his Bic to begin drying the blunt properly.

"Alright." Tayuya had apparently found her voice once again, although it seemed a bit quiet. "So maybe the fucker might be worth something. After all. Light that god damned thing." Patient # 00415-C7 almost laughed as he realized the girl was pouting.

--------------

Some small time later, the three were laughing softly and exchanging small stories and jokes. Patient # 00415-C7 surprised the other two often with raunchy jokes neither of them had ever heard before, although some were a little hard to understand. But, more importantly, as they settled into the more deep minded part of the buzz, plans began to be discussed.

"Alright, so. You guys attack during the Chuunin exams, and then… and then… and… uh…" Mizuki stopped, trying to remember exactly what came next so Tayuya decided to fill in for him. She did so, however, only after hitting the second blunt a third time - hoping the others wouldn't notice - while justifying that she had to do the extra work of speaking so she deserved another hit. "That's when we send a small strike force here to extract you both. Pliskin will be pleased with you, Mizuki. He was rather upset when you lost your teaching position and couldn't fuck up their training anymore." To which Mizuki could only give a sheepish grin as he accepted the blunt from Patient # 00415-C7. "Yeah, well," Mizuki spoke up between hits, while the boy in white pants simply stared at the faded remnants of the blood stained leaf on the ceiling. "I told you I'd make it up to the band, and look-ee here, I bring you the host of the Kyuubi no Kitsune." Patient # 00415-C7 giggled softly as his mothers name was mentioned. Kyuubi had always told him that she would help him escape this place to take revenge upon Konoha, but he doubted she had ever planned it like this. "And then…" Patient # 00415-C7 spoke up for the first time since the first blunt had been down to the last few rounds. "I can finally destroy Konoha."

Tayuya and Mizuki both smiled at his words, and soon, after the second blunt was finished, they left him alone in the padded room to gradually fall asleep in a world of wonderful detachment and motion lines.

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Time passed by quickly after that last visitation. Patient # 00415-C7 spent almost his every waking moment in meditation, speaking to and learning from Kyuubi. There was war on the horizon, and she wanted her vessel well prepared. Day in and day out, the boy drilled intensively, pausing only to eat and take care of the necessary bathroom breaks - as well as a daily shower, much to Kyuubi's annoyance. Patient # 00415-C7 was fairly desperate to be awake and ready for the final event that would allow him to participate in breaking free of this place - but exhaustion won out in the end. SO it was that he found the urgent voice of Kyuubi rending his brain apart in an attempt to wake his tired body up.

"**CHILD! IF YOU NEVER LISTEN TO ME AGAIN, LISTEN NOW! THERE IS BLOOD IN THE AIR! WE ARE TO BE FREE IF YOU WOULD ONLY… WAKE… UP!" **He shot awake, both hands clutching the sides of his head in agony until the thunderous echo had faded to a more bearable volume. Once the pain had receded, he was able to understand what she had been telling him, and he was suddenly very happy to have the headache. Hastily, Patient # 00415-C7 threw on the clothes that had been provided for him by Tayuya - little better than what he was forced to wear by the institution, but he could afford to be picky later. The black slacks and tight fitting red shirt worked well enough, but he was especially happy to tie the leather strap - with a musical note burned into the center - onto his forehead. It was a symbol - he was finally leaving this place. With that thought in mind, he balled his hand tightly into a ball, gathering energy slowly around the fist until he was satisfied. From there, he approached the door and slammed his fist into it - hearing the anguished scream only a half second later as the door rocketed out of its frame and crushed the person who'd been in the process of opening it. The scream surprised him, and he was curious as to who it could have possibly been when a boy - slightly older than him by Patient # 00415-C7's best guess - with a musical note emblazoned on a strip of metal across his forehead stepped into view, looking him over with a bit of grin. "Alright, Kin. I owe you lunch. For a crazy, he does have potential." Patient # 00415-C7 had only a second or so to wonder who this person was, even as he stepped into the hallway to follow them, before he came under attack for the first time in his life. He was just in the process of turning to face the exit way when a sudden pain filled him and he began to bleed at a rather alarming rate. The three Shinobi had scattered as the kunai was thrown, but Patient # 00415-C7, despite his strength, did not have the experience or combat instincts to sense the incoming kunai before it cut a ragged gash straight through his Adams Apple. He had just enough time to raise a hand to his throat and gasp - although it came out as a bloody gurgle - before his knees crumpled and he fell to the ground.

---------------------

"Shit! Cover!" Tsuchi Kin, the leader for this little FUBAR'd rescue operation cursed herself for relaxing - even just so slightly as she had - their target had died because she'd allowed some of these stupid leaf nin to sneak up on them. Regardless of her position of preference with Orochimaru - or the fact that her sister was one of his coveted bodyguards - failure was not an option. The orders had been clear, if they were unable to bring the target in alive, then they were to take out as many Shinobi as possible before dying - for there would be retrieval up for them. They could not call in any backup to save their asses, and whether it was better to escape and join the retreat that would be called soon - living as failures - or stay here and die with honor. Kin did not place honorable sacrifices very highly in her mind, but failing Orochimaru was a terrifying prospect. All of these things ran through her mind in the few seconds it had taken to snatch the door out of the indent in the wall that a very dead Mizuki would never crawl out of and use it to evade the first serious barrage of kunai. 'Shit, shit, shit! This is no good. The brat's dead, and judging by force those damn things are hitting, that guy's either a good Chuunin, or a Jounin hurling'm.' She cast about in hopes of seeing her teammates in good enough health to back her up in forming a plan of action - what she saw however was hardly heartening.

Her - sort of - boyfriend was staring endlessly at a spot on the wall, probably due to the impromptu lobotomy he had received thanks to the senbon sticking out of the inner corner of his eye socket. Her other teammate was fairing better, he'd kicked in a closet door and was in the process of taking out the hinge-pins to get himself a cover like hers. 'Heh, I've started a new fashion statement in the Shinobi world.' However, through the tiny glass window in the door, she could see that the Jounin - for the informational packet on Konoha Shinobi identified his jacket as a Jounin - had been joined by another who was in the process of doing… something. 'Damn!' Kin had to quickly duck away form the window as yet another kunai hurled itself her way and crashed through the glass. There was too much background noise for her to put together a successful Genjutsu without risk of backfire, so her options were limited. 'Double damn! How did this turn into such a cluster fuck so fast?' She was just beginning to wonder the likelihood of putting up a white flag and then gutting them when she got the chance when something very strange and frightening occurred. The dead boy, it seemed, wasn't so dead after all.

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Patient # 00415-C7 had fought for consciousness for several long second before the darkness had begun to claim him. But then, like an angel from hell, Kyuubi slammed an almost crippling amount of her chakra into his body and the healing began. It didn't stop there, however. As he slowly blinked open eyes that had closed in preparation for death, his body began to convulse. Not just convulse, but break. He tried to grit his teeth, but found that they were somehow becoming misshapen. His spine seemed to splinter in several places, arching and stretching before hunching slightly and suddenly bursting through the skin just above his ass. Fingertips hardened and thickened, curling in at the edges until they'd become dangerously sharp claws. Now, as he rose form the floor, he was aware that the world was bathed in red again - like his selective sight. He was also very much aware that the people who had caused him such momentary discomfort were still seeking to do so - this did not please him. Eyes narrowed and his jaw suddenly unhinged, aching mightily for a moment as it seemed the very bone was stretching until it settled in a permanently predatorily grin. It was then that he took off - heedless of the kunai that came at him. What need had he to worry? His vision, which captured movement so perfectly in less time than a blink, enabled him to avoid the lethal intent and receive only scratches - or, at worst, a few nasty gashes. There were thirty feet separating Patient # 00415-C7 from the guards at the stair well, and he covered half the distance in less time than it took him to wipe piss off the toilet seat. He was halted momentarily - his vision, at the very edge of the peripheral, had caught a glimpse into the daytime office he was about to pass and seen something that did not move, but was zeroed in on for its potential. This was an aspect he had never known existed, but he was very glad of.

In mid step, he threw himself through the heavy grating on the doorway and landed in the room on all fours atop the same desk that held the industrial paper cutter that had so grabbed his attention. A quick wrench from chakra infused muscles and he was back in the hallway, howling like the madman they had all accused him of being as he tore across the final stretch and nearly cleaved the jr. Jounin in half before simply bowling into the other - a fury of slashing fangs and rending jaws. When the one called Kin reached him a moment later, Patient # 00415-C7 was already almost completely reverted to his original body, only the claws, teeth and eyes remained - the bold stripe marks on his cheek had always been there. The girl seemed almost frightened by him as he turned to her, one string of raw bloody meat hanging from an enlarged canine - and amusingly, her fear aroused him. 'Oh well, we'll have time to consider that later.' Without standing, Patient # 00415-C7 finished drawing the visceral strand into his mouth for consumption while reaching blindly for the blade that had become his new favorite thing in the world. Once it was firmly gripped in his hand again, he stood with a blood spattered smile for the girl and cocked his head to the side. "Shall we go then?" Kin only nodded as her other teammate confirmed Mizuki's death - and then ensured their comrade's as well with a quick cut across the throat. All together now, they made their way up through the stairs and hallways of the institution before heading into the battlefield that was Konoha.

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Although it pained him to have no real memory of the escape, Patient # 00415-C7 was satisfied by the fact that his clothing had become uncomfortably stiff with drying blood. Kin, the girl, and Pai Lai, the semi-androgynous boy both seemed to have looks akin to mild awe on their faces as he sat in the small compartment they'd been provided with - meticulously licking his paper cutter clean, seemingly enjoying the shallow cuts the many nicks and dings along it's surface caused him. He was free now, but strangely, he had no desire to look out the window of the train to see the borders of Fire Country draw away behind them. He did not wish to see this country again until he returned to destroy it.

When the train came to the designated station, Patient # 00415-C7 was summoned before the great man - who had been pivotal in his early escape - and given a brief interview before being assigned both a temporary place of lodging and a guide who lived there - one Tsuchi Kin. They were mostly silent on the way, although the girl did point out a few things along the way that would be important in the next few days to come - a clothing shop, a restaurant or two, the path out to the training fields, along with several other things of less importance that were still relevant. When they arrived, Kin immediately showed him where the bathroom was and told him to bath the stench of leaf scum off of himself, saying - "You're free now dammit, and if I have to deal with that rank odor another fucking minute, I'm gonna hurl. And! Since getting your ass outta there cost me an outlet of sexual frustration, I seriously suggest you don't fucking argue right now, got it?" Although he had laughed Patient # 00415-C7 had gotten the message well enough and complied - although he was very glad to be able to shower once again. Now that the heat of the battle was over, the stick of battle sweat and coagulated blood was becoming annoying.

As usual, he showered in utter silence, simply enjoying a good rinse and scrub. It was always so relaxing to him, and as she showered, he began to feel good. Good in a way that hadn't happened in years, it made him want to laugh and smile and jump around. It was almost as if he'd just reverted to the six year old he'd been when he'd gotten his first buzz. After he'd been in the shower for long enough to be clean by his own standards, Patient # 00415-C7 simply turned the water off and stood in the stall, enjoying the chance to drip dry while zoning out. Ahh yes, today was a wonderful day, and nothing or no one could bring him down - or so he thought. Things have a way of going awry, he noticed, whenever he thought they couldn't get any better. Although, in many ways, what happened next was just the icing on the cake for such a wonderful day. As he stepped out of the shower he stopped and stared in shock. There, before him in all her naked glory was Tayuya. He didn't have time to process the scream, nor did he even see the blow that knocked him to the floor hard enough to tear skin. The dark claimed him far too quickly for any of these things. But, what his mind did have time to process was one perverted thought that made Kyuubi laugh as it reached her. 'Huh, so pink **is ** her natural color.'

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**(Note: (1. Pliskin - **A code name for Orochimaru for operatives inside the city. For those of you get the reference... GOOD FOR YOU! -grins- For those who don't... you obviously have no culture and should watch more old action fliks. Such as Escape from N.Y. and Escape from L.A. - both were Kurt Russel movies where the main Charecture was Snake Pliskin - I hope you understand the codename now.

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**(AN: **Again, this is obviously an AU. And yes, for the purposes of amusement, perversion, and ease... I have made Kin and Tayuya sisters. Hell, you never hear Tayuya's last name so I figured, 'Why not?' which tend to be the words I find myself thinking if I like a story idea that pops up. For those of you may not quite get it, Yes, Patient # 00415-C7 ( A private joke on my end. ) is Naruto. He just dosn't remember his name, although there is no way in hell I will keep writing that down everytime, so he will be given a name soon. I'm debating over whether it will be Naruto or not thouygh, so I suppose we'll see. Oh yeah, this is going to be a mainly NaruTayu fic, although, as I implied a few lines ago, Kin'll also be thrown into the mix. This was originaly a challenge from a reviewer of mine. He proposed a NaruTayu fic to me that would be about 20 chaps long, 800ish words each chap. -rolls his eyes- Like I could ever do something that simple?)

**Dirtwater.**


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